Chapter 411
After crossing the border and entering the Holy Federation, everything moved swiftly.
Thanks to the teleportation circles prepared by Israfil, they made consecutive jumps until finally arriving in a massive city reminiscent of Langerstine.
And the very first place they visited in this city—
“So, how is it?”
—was a high-end tailor shop.
Simon stepped out from behind the curtain of the fitting room, wearing a slightly embarrassed smile. He was dressed in a clean white suit with a crimson necktie.
Israfil beamed with satisfaction.
“It looks great on you, my dear nephew~”
The attendant beside them nodded enthusiastically in full agreement.
Now dressed in new clothes, Simon stood before the mirror and touched his newly bleached white hair.
It still felt strange, but the more he looked, the more it grew on him.
“Don’t worry too much.”
Israfil added softly.
“Your hair will return to its original color in two days.”
After purchasing the suit, the two left the tailor shop.
Gracefully walking down the street, Israfil snapped her fingers. A transparent barrier shimmered into place around them.
“Here, your fake ID and profile. From now on, your name is Shaun Harder. You’re an 18-year-old priest boy from the 2nd Cathedral of the Vizere Parish in the Hafen region.”
Simon received the forged ID and profile with a bewildered expression.
A Saint arranging a fake identity through a broker? Was this even allowed?
“Are you really okay with this?”
The holiness of priests is born from blind, absolute faith in the Goddess Dave.
However, if they themselves renounce their faith, they may become entangled in mental distress, rendering them unable to use their holiness as before, a condition commonly referred to as a “holiness slump”.
That was exactly what Simon was worried about, but Israfil simply smiled gently.
“All of this is to stop a greater evil and threat! I’m sure the Goddess will gladly forgive us.”
At the very least, this woman seemed utterly immune to holiness slumps.
“But, um, Lady Israfil.”
Simon began, looking over his fully styled outfit.
“Is there some connection between this outfit and the mission?”
Israfil shook her head.
“First, we need to bring the guide. The clothes are for that.”
“Oh, we’re going to meet them now?”
She smiled brightly.
“Yes! Let’s go save her together.”
* * *
She had wanted to become a Saint.
It was the dream of every girl born in the Holy Federation.
A radiant being, shining like the stars in the night sky. One admired by all, praised by the people, elevated to a demi-godlike status as the closest to the Goddess among mortals.
And since the woman she deeply respected — ‘Miss Anna’ — had also been a Saint, and as people began calling her the “second coming of Anna Cross” during her time at Efnelle, the pressure only increased.
Naturally, she thought she had to follow in Miss Anna’s footsteps and become a Saint.
She believed that the moment she finally became one, the long-cherished dream and goal, she would be the happiest person in the world.
Then, right now—
‘Am I happy?’
Lete was smiling. But inside, she wasn’t.
It was the Cathedral’s Foundation Day Festival. Countless people were entering the great cathedral.
“Over there! That’s her! The Saint of Stars!”
“…How could someone be so noble?”
Lete stood with perfect posture, her carefully crafted smile on full display before the masses.
There was no ‘Lete Chardena’ here.
Only the fact that ‘the Saint has arrived’ existed.
“Saint.”
A paladin in charge of her escort approached and knelt on one knee before her.
“I shall accompany you.”
Lete responded with the smile that seemed permanently affixed to her face.
“Yes.”
As she extended her pale hand, the paladin kissed its back and rose to his feet.
The honor of guarding and serving the Saint filled the young paladin with pride; his body stiff with tension and his face flushed.
‘…My legs hurt.’
Of course, Lete wasn’t thinking about any of that.
All she wondered was when this tedious ceremony would finally end.
Being a Saint was far dirtier work than it looked.
It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that every major event in the Federation involved the Saint in some way. In this culture, the presence of a Saint was considered a direct blessing from the Goddess, so important events and anniversaries were frequently postponed until she was available.
Duties and responsibilities.
Traditions and obligations.
The weight of power and authority came with even more chains.
The rebelliousness she’d had as an Efnelle student no longer applied. High-ranking archbishops, other Saints, and even the Pontifex herself began directly training her in etiquette and discipline.
—This behavior puts us in a difficult position.
—Please, maintain the dignity expected of a Saint.
If Lete made a mistake, those around her suffered for it. Under mental pressure, she dragged herself through her daily routine.
Her smile, voice, facial muscles, manners, tone of speech, even her thoughts and values.
Everything she had once held as her own was being “corrected” to be more Saint-like.
—The Saint represents the Goddess Dave. She must watch over all, pity the weak, and never lose her smile…
Day by day, in the hands of Efnelle’s greedy elders and stiff-minded traditionalists, Lete Chardena faded away — replaced by a doll, meticulously carved and polished to perfection.
Yes, now she understood.
They didn’t need her.
They just needed a smiling puppet for their grand ceremonies.
And on occasion, when war breaks out, it’s a bonus if the puppet has the power to go to the frontlines and die.
The hardest part of all this, though, was that even Israfil, someone she’d once trusted, no longer treated her warmly.
—Lete. Now that you’re a fellow Saint like me, I won’t tolerate childish behavior anymore.
Having volunteered to be her mentor, Israfil drilled etiquette into her so harshly she could cry.
One saving grace was the rule requiring all Saints awakened in their teens to complete a three-year curriculum at Efnelle. Thanks to that, she didn’t have to part from her roommate, Lilinet, or her other friends.
Of course, with added Saint classes and the requirement to graduate with top marks from Efnelle as well, the workload increased exponentially.
Then came vacation and as soon as she left school, hell began.
She couldn’t even count how many places she had to visit each day. The schedule was murderous.
“We are honored to meet the daughter closest to the Goddess.”
Some bishop from somewhere.
She couldn’t remember their names anymore. She just went through the motions.
With a doll-like smile, she extended her hand. They knelt, kissed the back of it, and wept with gratitude for the Goddess’ grace.
“Hoho! We are honored to meet the daughter closest to the Goddess.”
Senile old man.
He was a bishop from some wealthy province, apparently, and lately, he had even started using teleportation circles to attend every one of her events.
“Ahh, your noble beauty leaves this old man at a loss.”
He spoke of nobility, but his eyes roamed over her chest and legs.
Does he think she can’t tell?
Disgusting, senile old pervert.
‘Ah, fuck this.’
Rage surged from deep within her chest.
‘I’d knock your dentures out, crush your jaw with a soccer kick, then triple knee your nose so hard you’d never breathe right again.’
She only imagined it, of course, all while keeping her doll-like smile.
In this place, she was a puppet.
A puppet, a puppet.
Not a person.
Thinking that way somehow made it easier.
All she hoped for was that this wretched moment would end soon.
“The daughter closest to the Goddess—”
‘Fuck off.’
“The daughter of—”
‘Wanna die?’
“Your radiant smile leaves me—”
‘Then you can smile all you want in hell.’
Her patience was nearing its absolute limit, but her body still moved in perfect compliance with the etiquette drilled into her bones.
“Thank you. May the Goddess’ blessing be upon you.”
Now, she could barely even understand the words coming out of her own mouth.
She was in a trance.
“Yes, the Goddess will be watching over you too.”
Taking a step back, the whole situation felt like a complete farce.
Doing an impression of Lady Israfil, invoking the Goddess, and watching people sob in ecstasy at her divine mercy and grace.
The Holy Federation truly was an incredible country.
And so, time passed, and after meeting with all the high-ranking officials, Lete was utterly exhausted. Her escort paladin spoke.
“Saint of Stars, we shall proceed to the next location.”
Again?
“Are we going right now?”
She asked as sharply as she could manage, but this fanatical paladin didn’t notice in the slightest that she was upset.
After all, he was one of those lunatics who firmly believed that the greatest joy a Saint could experience was blessing the servants of the Goddess.
Annoyance flared up within her as Lete turned her back and muttered,
“…I’ll be back in a moment.”
“I will accompany you.”
“I’m not going to run away, so stay here.”
“No matter where you go, escorting the Saint is my duty—”
Suddenly.
Lete’s body spun in a full circle.
BWAAAHHH!
Her leg whipped up a fierce gust as it swept forward, and the heel of her shoe came to a sudden, sharp stop—snap!—right in front of the paladin’s face.
His cheek flapped in the wind, his gums and teeth exposed.
“…Hey.”
“Y-yes?”
“Are you fucking deaf? Who else is standing here besides you, you dumb fuck?”
The paladin’s mouth dropped open in disbelief.
It was such a typical reaction that it pissed her off even more. That look—“Our holy Saint just used foul language?!”
“I-I was merely trying to escort the Saint…!”
“So you’re gonna follow me into the bathroom too, you bastard?!”
Smack!
In the end, Lete smacked him right on the head and walked away with sharp, clicking steps.
Flat on the ground, the paladin wore an expression like “Our holy Saint… goes to the bathroom?”
Goddamn it.
She truly, deeply despised this. She wanted to kill everyone.
Click, click.
Lete pressed her fingers to her forehead as she walked away. Slipping through a door at the back, she found herself in a quiet, empty corridor.
As she walked, she peeled off the ornaments on her head, the Saint’s robe draped over her shoulders, and even kicked off her high heels. Underneath the outer garments, her Efnelle school uniform was revealed.
She was technically still an Efnelle student, so for public appearances, it was mandatory to wear the Saint’s robe over the uniform.
‘No matter what anyone says later, I’m skipping the rest of today’s schedule!’
She desperately needed some fresh air.
And—
‘Miss Anna, I miss you!’
She missed that person.
How had Miss Anna or Lady Israfil managed to endure all of this? She genuinely respected the older Saints for their resilience.
‘Lilinet… I never thought I’d miss you, but I do.’
She also remembered the faces of her friends from Efnelle.
Still, she was truly, truly glad they hadn’t seen her like this.
Unlike how she acted at school, playing the refined Saint while pretending to bestow divine grace on wrinkly old men—if they saw that, they’d double over with laughter...
—Heh.
Laughter?
In the nearly deserted corridor, a quiet chuckle echoed.
Lete flinched and turned her head instinctively. A man in a white suit with white hair was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, quietly stifling a laugh.
Who the hell is this guy, laughing at me like—wait, huh?
Her eyes widened suddenly. The man unfolded his arms and slowly approached.
His white hair swayed, and his eyes and face gradually came into view.
Lete’s lips parted, and her expression went blank.
Her body and mind froze.
Perhaps even more than Lilinet or her other friends, he was the last person she wanted to be seen by like this.
But him being here? That should’ve been impossible.
Had she finally gone insane?
Was she hallucinating?
She blinked and rubbed her eyes, but his form only grew clearer.
“It’s been a while.”
A familiar voice. A familiar face. A faintly mischievous smile.
And more than anything—
“Lete.”
Not Saint. Not the daughter closest to the Goddess.
He boldly, casually called her by her name.
“…What the.”
Lete’s face flushed red.
“Wh-wh-wh-what are you doing here?! N-no, wait! More importantly… did—did you see?!”
“See what?”
She rushed forward, grabbed his tie, and yanked it tight as she yelled.
“Did you see me in the banquet hall just now?!”
Her ears were glowing red as she shouted.
Simon, whose tie was being pulled, raised both hands in a calming gesture.
“Lete, I can’t breathe.”
“Forget it! Forget everything! Erase it completely from your mind, you bastard!!”
“How am I supposed to do that? But seriously, you really looked like a Saint…”
Her face went red to the very limit.
Lete let out a scream and clenched her fists.
“Forget ittttttttttttt!!”
Tap.
At that moment, a hand caught her fist. Lete’s eyes widened at the sight of another unexpected person emerging from behind Simon.
“Honestly, I told you to stop throwing punches first, didn’t I? Lete.”
“L-Lady Israfil…?”
Israfil gave a gentle smile.
“Come along. I have something to tell both of you.”
Superb.
When are we getting more free chapters?
Thanks for the new chapters